


Though lovers be lost, love shall not.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: Historical RPF, The Favourite (2018)
Genre: 18th Century, Britain, Court, F/F, Friendship, Historical, Jealousy, Lesbian Relationship, Love, Queen - Freeform, Royalty, duchess - Freeform, los - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 08:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: It is 1714 and queen Anne is dead.  Sarah Churchill reflects upon  her life with Anne, her love for the queen and her eventual  dismissal from court. She blames one  person for her dismissal, Abigail Masham, believeing that were it not for her, Anne would never have asked her to leave. But Sarah misses Anne,  inspite  of everything that happened between them.





	Though lovers be lost, love shall not.

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been interested in this particular historical event and so decided to write about it, though I have not yet seen the favourite from beginning to end. I have played up the love angle for my own narrative purposes but have tried to stick to history as much as I can.

August, 1714.

There are so many things I remember about her. These memories, ingrained upon my mind as of carvings on a stone are spinning around in my head, even as I try to control the tears that threaten to overwhelm me.

I knew she was ill. She had always been ill in one way or another and I had always secretly thought that perhaps Anne may have been taken from us and from the world earlier than she should have been. And yet reading the letter concerning the queen’s death still comes as a shock, even though it has been years since I  have seen her in person.  I had hoped that one day, Anne may have seen it in her heart to forgive me for the disagreement that had torn us apart and resulted in my banishment from court. I had hoped that Anne would  have  considered the years we had  spent together as children, but alas, she had not.

I place the tear stained letter upon the desk in front of me, glad that my husband cannot at this moment see me. He had always found great fault with the relationship that had blossomed between Anne and myself and I doubted that he would find anything nice to say should he come upon me crying over this letter. He had always talked so distainfully of my friendship with Anne, viewing my dismissal from court as a slight against our good name rather than a personal conflict between myself and the queen, though thinking on it now, I think my husband was the only person to have been completely oblivious to my relationship with Anne. Everyone else had been all too aware of it.

I think that Anne and myself had always loved each other, though many historians will dispute the fact I am sure. It is true though, I had always admired Anne, and not just because she was a royal Princess. I had admired her spirit, her friendship and the manner in which she treated others, especially her ladies. Not only that, Anne Stuart had always defied convention. That was another interesting facet of her personality for me.  Part of me thinks that her attitude towards others was due in no small part to the way in which she was and has always been treated. They beat her down. They had always beat my dearest Anne down. They ensured that she was kept as down trodden as it was possible to be and yet through all of the struggles that plagued her as a child – her illness, her   lack of  true friends and her status as a lonely princess, one could never have taken her smile away. That was  what drew me to her at first I think, that spirit and that smile. She drew many people to her I know, but I was glad when she  had chosen me as her favourite.

We had to be  very secretive about our  relationship at first. After all, in a world such as the  one  in which we lived, one had to be careful that  a relationship that was frowned upon by all concerned remained hidden. Anne   had grown up  with a family who wished for her to make  a good match  with a  man of noble birth, and yet she loved me.

 We met in secret at first, sharing  the first of our sweet kisses  alone in the coridors of the castle late at night while everyone with any sense was in bed. Anne   had delighted in our late night meetings, pulling me further and further into the tangled web of her life  as we got to know each other better. She whispered secrets into my ear in the dead of night as our long nights spent alone in the castle  transformed  into long nights spent in Anne’s bed, and I quickly found an  advantage in it.  She had chosen me. I, Sarah Churchill, woman of relative unimportance  when one compared me to  a princess of the Stuart family, had become Anne’s favourite. There were those who said at the  beginning that Anne and I were becoming too close for comfort, that we were creating a scandle, but to this day I care not for what those small minded people said. All I knew was that Anne and I had a bond that, while unbreakable, would never be understood by anyone around us. That was why we had to keep our    liaisons a secret from the court.

Eventually though, our relationship was  discovered and scandle crashed down upon Anne Stuart’s head. There were numerous rumours and  whispers that had  often circulated around the court about maids, servants and others who were in the queen’s service. We knew that relationships such as ours existed everywhere, but it was quite another thing for a relationship such as this to have been linkd to the queen herself.   I minded not, and I don’t think that she minded too much either.  My dear Anne had always been  quite contrary,  partaking in activities that were certainly not  said to be  suitable for ladies of her majesty’s calibre. She seemed to take it in good stride however and I think that encouraged me to do the same.

Though I enjoyed my life with Anne very much indeed, the stories I heard about myself from the men in power soon began to creep beneath my skin and drive me to distraction. Anne wasn’t my lover. That was what they said. Anne and I were in a scandalous relationship, a relationship that consisted of control on my part and meak compliance on Anne’s.  They were quick to spread hateful rumours about me throughout the court and kingdom, stating that I, Sarah Churchill controlled everything that the frail queen did and made every decision for  her. This was not true, though historians in the future will doubtless try and spin  that  very narrative. Certainly, I did have influence over Anne’s decisions. Anne needed me to do so. Anne  was weak and frail. She needed me to make decisions for her, as she was unfit to make them herself. She always told me so.

I tried my damndest to keep Anne safe, and still the rumours spread.  Even my family  often stated that my power over the queen would benefit us greatly. I, as the duchess of Marlborough, now had a great deal of  influence over the queen and I was beset  almost daily by those who wished me to be cleared out of the way and those who wished me to use my relationship with Anne for their own ends. But I tried not to. I only wished to be a  good friend and lover to the queen and I  tried to ignore the words thrown at me.

So for a while, Anne Stuart and I existed in relative harmony in the court, with myself sleeping night after night in the queen’s bed, talking long into the  early hours about everything and nothing,    merely rejoicing over the life we now shared. I helped Anne run the country despite our disagreements over politics and government. I ensured that she made the right political decisions and also tried to keep her happy at the same time, inspite of the growing hatred of me by the people of Britain.

 But then, my impoverished  cousin Abigail  came to  court.  And she  set out to ruin all.

That silly girl should have known better. When I kindly took pitty on her after she was brought to  the level of  begery by her unscrupulous father, she  repayed me by stabbing me in the back and trying to tear me away from the woman I loved. But Abigale was a fool. She had  always been a fool, and would always be a fool from now  until the day she died. And yet as she  ingraciated herself with the courtiers, the queen’s ministers and eventually  Anne herself, she soon began competing for the title of the queen’s  favourite.  If I am being honest with myself, I do not truly know whether I am more offended by Abigail’s bold actions or the fact that said bold actions worked to an extent. Perhaps I am offended and angry with both. I am angry at Anne too, though I hate myself for my anger. Why had Anne fallen for Aba=igail Masham’s antics? I still do not know to this day. I like to think that Abigail herself had practiced some sort of trickery and manipulation on my dearest Anne.  

Abigail was a  snake. There is no other way to put it. She  had slithered into court and hypnotised the queen  with her delicate charm and soft nature. Anne rather liked that, I think. I was pushed aside in favour of Abigail who became lady of the bed chamber, a  position envyable  to all. She  had known precisely how to worm her way  into my Anne’s affections,  soothing her  aches and pains and whispering in her ear, telling my friend everything she wished to hear. Gradually, Abigail’s pretence at kindness caused Anne to turn against me.

She dismissed me from court and threw me out of the castle. Against my protestations of love, she chose Abigail over me. Abigail with her stupidity and charm got  to remain behind as a lady of the bed chamber, favoured by the one who once favoured me, and I was cast out.

I fled to Germany with my husband, unable for a long time to live without my dearest Anne. But I managed it eventually. It was difficult. It really was. I thought often about my queen,of  Abigail and what may have been happening at court without me. They were awful thoughts. Terrible thoughts. I found that I couldn’t stay away from Britain and from Anne. I decided that I would try to get back to England, with the hopes of   resolving my problems with Anne.

But I arrived in England three days after the queen had died. I had missed my opportunity to make it up with the woman  I had loved  beyond any other. Abigail Masham had been Anne Stuart’s favourite  until the end of her life and for that, I hated Abigail all the more.

I must try and move on from this heart-ache however. I no longer have my Anne by my side, but neither does Abigail Masham. I know that now the queen is dead, George of Hanover will take over, and perhaps I will be able to return to court under his rule. Perhaps then I shall be able to make amends with my life, difficult though it had  become. I have decided to write about my life with Anne Stuart in the hopes of putting to rest all of the vicious and spiteful rumours that have been told about me and my dearest for so long. Maybe then people will come to understand the love that had blossomed and bloomed between queen Anne Stuart and myself. I know not yet whether such a plan will work, but it has to be better than nothing. Perhaps then, I can show the world that I had truly loved Anne and that Abigail Masham, my devious cousin had  insnaired Anne into meak compliance.  

I will start writing soon, in the hopes of proving my love. I will make sure that my story is told. I will make sure that I, and not Abigail Masham, is remembered as the queen’s true favourite.  


End file.
